


Orange Rolls and Retail Woes

by rachhell



Series: south park drabble bomb [6]
Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Christmas traditions, Fluff, M/M, South Park Drabble Bomb, retail hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 18:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12989943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachhell/pseuds/rachhell
Summary: It's Butters' fourth Christmas working retail, and his first year missing out on an important family tradition. Kenny tries to make the holiday season more bearable for his boyfriend, and bring the tradition to him as best as he can.Written for the December 2017 South Park Drabble Bomb, day two - tradition.





	Orange Rolls and Retail Woes

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write SOMETHING involving working retail for these holiday prompts, because that has been my holiday experience for 6 of the last 7 years. *cries*
> 
> Butters would be such a sweet and good jewelry salesman and would make so much commission just by being himself.

“W-well sure, mom, I… okay. _Okay!”_ Butters always paced and fidgeted when he talked on the phone, and this conversation was no exception. He’d trodden a path around the kitchen, through the living room, past the front door and back at least four times by now. “I _know_ , but… mmhmm… no, Ken doesn’t, he-“ Butters stopped in the middle of the living room, right in front of the television, and threw the hand not holding his phone up in frustration. “Oh _jeez_ , mom, ye-“ He caught his boyfriend’s eyes. “ _Parents,”_ he mouthed soundlessly.

If Kenny hadn’t sat through _Christmas Vacation_ a hundred times already, he would’ve felt no guilt in interrupting Butters’ conversation to shoo him out of the way. Instead, he smiled back and pretended he could relate. The holidays, for his family, were never anything spectacular; typically, it was just another miserable day. Christmas was rarely even talked about; it was hammered into the McCormick children’s’ heads from a very early age that Santa isn’t real. And if he was real, he wasn’t coming to their house. It was only when Kenny had reconnected with the man he could now confidently call his significant other, after they’d shared an apartment and two Christmases together thus far, save for Christmas Eve, which Butters always spent at home, that he began to earnestly enjoy the holiday - the carols, the movies, the beautiful smells of pine and cinnamon and snow, the lights - it was all something new, and wonderful for him.

Butters, in contrast, was becoming jaded. It was his fourth year at the mall, and second at the coveted spot in the Macy’s jewelry counter. It seemed with every year spent working there, his enthusiasm for the holiday diminished. With a roll of his eyes and a final cut-off sentence said to his mother, he said his goodbyes and flopped onto the couch next to Kenny.

“Jeez. Moms,” he sighed, tiredly.

Kenny placed a hand on his knee. “What’s up?”

“Aw, well. She’s just upset that I gotta work on Christmas Eve,” he sighed. “I tried to get out of it, really! But who’d want to switch with me?” Butters‘ tie, a requirement for his job at the department store, lay untied against his chest, like he was prolonging tying it as long as possible, soaking up his last few minutes of freedom before heading out the door, into his car and to the mall yet again. It was red, patterned with tiny reindeer, a present from his mother. “A-and plus, I didn’t work Christmas Eve last year,” he continued, tucking in his shirt, “It wouldn’t be fair to everyone else. Y’know?” Butters’ tired eyes are framed by slight dark circles, hazy violet half-moons reminiscent of playground bruises from their childhood pooling underneath thin, pale skin. It was uncharacteristic of him to look so exhausted, but several years of retail were beginning to take their toll.

“Well. I guess that does make sense but, I mean, I’m pretty upset too,” Kenny said. “How can they make you stay til _ten?_ Who’s gonna be shopping?”

“Oh, gosh, lotsof people! Judy said last year it was a hot day! Y’know, last minute shoppers and all. _Commission_ ,” he said, hopeful and hard, like he was convincing himself more than Kenny that going to work was beneficial for the both of them.

“Last minute. By which you mean dudes who forget to buy shit for their wife and gotta make a mad dash to the jewelry store?” Kenny clicked his tongue. “Or not even their wife, their… mistress I guess, or. Whoever the fuck.” On screen, Clark Griswold was sawing the newel post off his staircase, which elicited a laugh from Kenny, and somewhat empty-sounding chuckle from Butters.

“Wish I could do something like _that_ to the damn store. Everyone should have to work retail _once_ in their lives, see how they like it,” he muttered. “I’m gettin’ pretty dang annoyed, Ken. I dunno how much longer I can keep this going.” When Kenny simply rubbed his back in response, Butters continued. “It’s…” he sighed. “I guess my mom wants me there ‘cause it’s just a tradition thing? With my family?”

“Yeah? Can’t say I ever had any of those.” A hint of bitterness crept into Kenny’s voice, which he tried to mask by backing up and saying, with exaggerated interest, “What’s your tradition, Buttercup?”

Butters’ mouth crept into a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well. Every year, since I was real little, we go to church on Christmas Eve, and after, my mom makes these _real_ good sweet rolls, y-y’know, the kind with the orange frosting? And we exchange just _one_ gift with each other, somethin’ small, and then we leave cookies out and my Dad puts the presents under the tree for the next morning and…” he sighed again, fiddling with his untied tie. “I can’t believe I’m missing it. They’re gettin’ old now, and I’m _missing_ it.”

“I don’t get why you’re so broken up about it,” said Kenny, clicking off the television, his own face, weary, yet nowhere near as exhausted as Butters’, reflecting back at him from the black screen. “You hate your dad.”

“I do.  But it’s tradition.” Butters pecked him on the lips, before standing, snuggling himself into his pea coat, and heading to the door. His hand hesitated over the doorknob before he flung it open with the steadfast determination of somebody about to go into battle. He tossed a smile over his shoulder at Kenny. “I’ll see you later.”

* * *

The last time Kenny was at the mall, he’d died. Black Friday had been particularly violent that year, and he’d been pushed off a balcony by a group of bloodthirsty shoppers fighting over the last Hatchimal. At least Satan had been nice enough to let him out of Hell in time to make it to Thanksgiving dinner at Stan and Wendy’s. Still, he vowed to do his Christmas shopping online from then on out, and being back at the shopping center on Christmas Eve sparked in him a feeling of dread, although it was nearing close and therefore nowhere near the bustle and chaos as the day of his most recent death.

He was careful to avoid venturing into Macy’s, lest Butters prematurely catch him and ruin his surprise, but he did get close enough to get a glance into the store, shaking his head at one of the smiling cosmetics girls at the front who recognized him through his boyfriend. _You never saw me,_ he mouthed, hoping that she’d get the hint. Butters’ counter was barely visible from the front of the store, hidden behind a giant Estee Lauder display, but he could still see a shock of blonde hair bopping around the counter, could make out a forced, tired smile, and hear disingenuous giggles Butters exchanged with the customer he was helping. Overhead, _The Most Wonderful Time of the Year_ began to play, and the gaggle of women at the fragrance counter issued a collective sigh.

Kenny didn’t mind the Christmas music, nor the decorations throughout the mall. Sheets of icicle lights hung from the ceiling in columns, thick bundles of faux-pine garland were draped upon the same balcony from which he was tossed last month, and oversized red and gold ornaments dangled overhead, and even if it was the same sense of manufactured festivity that was present in every mall throughout the country, Kenny still thought it was nice, pretty even. The time was 9:50 p.m., and after making his necessary purchases, Kenny was itching for the mall to close for the evening. As he exited the mall through the main exit to wait outside the Macy’s employee door, he lit up a cigarette, and located Butters’ car after a few moments of searching.

The fifteen minutes he waited for the last two employees of Macy’s to exit through the back entrance felt like an hour. He leaned against the car, burned through another smoke, and wished he’d remembered to wear gloves. But, as Butters and the manager-on-duty locked up the store and waved their goodbyes to each other before going separate ways to their cars, Kenny decided the wait was worth it. Butters looked tired, as usual, but content that the day was over.

“Hey.” Kenny waved, rather lamely, at his boyfriend, who, despite his brows twisting up in confusion, smiled. “Got you something.” A paper shopping bag swayed slightly, back and forth, as it dangled from Kenny’s hand.

“Ken,” Butters opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say, before flinging his arms around Kenny’s shoulders in a hug, pushing the slightly shorter man into his car with a thunking sound. “How’d you get here?” He asked after kissing him, swiftly and firm.

“Uber,” shrugged Kenny. “So, I guess the inside of the mall is still open. I talked to the security guard earlier. C’mon.” He grabbed Butters’ hand in his larger, slightly calloused own, pulling him in a jog toward the main entrance and ignoring Butters’ protestation about getting in trouble.

Inside, the mall was devoid of shoppers. The security guard was riding a zamboni-like floor cleaner around the main hallway, and tipped his head at Kenny as he and Butters speed-walked toward their destination, hand in hand. As before, the columns of fairy lights and shining balls of red and gold twinkled, illuminating the dark mall almost as if by candlelight. The space in front of Butters’ workplace where children came to be photographed with Santa loomed before them, and Kenny dragged his boyfriend to the large, glimmering Christmas tree. At its base were layers of soft, white, polyester fluff meant to represent snow, and Kenny wasted no time plopping himself down into it, followed quickly by a laughing, yet slightly befuddled Butters.

Kenny pulled a package out of the shopping bag. “So, uh.” He stared at his shoes as he fiddled with the bow on the wrapped present. “I was thinking about what you talked about. Missing Christmas Eve with your parents, ‘n all. So…” He thrust the present out at Butters, who took it with giddy anticipation and unwrapped a corner. “Here. It’s nothing big. Just… something small, for Christmas Eve, like you said, and I have other stuff for tomorrow for you, but... You know, I never…” He exhaled a heaving sigh.

“Never what?” Butters peered at him owlishly, his fingers playing with the piece of wrapping paper he’d undone.

“My family, we didn’t have any of those Christmas things, or whatever... I guess I maybe got a little jealous when you were talking about it.” In an effort to hide his vulnerability, he shrugged and shot Butters a nonchalant smile. “And, I guess I figured that since you’re missing out this year, and I’ve never really… been able-”

“Aw, Ken,” breathed Butters, and scooted closer to him. The fluff of the “snow” scrunched up between their thighs. “I’m sorry you-”

Kenny silenced him with a brush of his thumb against his jaw. “It’s all right. It’s better now. I just figured maybe I could, you know. Bring the tradition to you. Or start our own, maybe. If that’s cool.”

Butters’ grin was as bright as the Christmas lights around him, and he nodded. “‘S’cool, Kenny. Y’know… I always wished they’d let ya come on Christmas Eve, too. I never stood up for myself ‘cause we’ve been getting along better, now that I’m grown up and all.” His bright blue eyes met Kenny’s own, and he reached out to take his hand. “Maybe it’s time for something different.”

Kenny grinned back. “Open your dumb present.” And, Butters did, letting out a snort of laughter once it was unwrapped.

“Where the heck did you find a hamster tie?”

“And in your favorite color. Boyfriend of the fuckin’ year, huh?” They exchanged a laugh, which turned into a hug, which turned into a deep, searing kiss.

Wanting to keep going, but reluctant to do so in Santa’s Workshop at the North Park Mall, Kenny pulled away, and rummaged around in the bag, emerging with the next part of his surprise. “I baked these right after you left, so they’re cold, and they’re from a tube, but-”

“Are those orange rolls?” Butters asked, giddily. “Aw! This is great.” He tore off one for himself, and one for Kenny.

“New traditions,” Kenny said. They laughed as they bumped their orange rolls together, like a toast.

“New traditions,” replied Butters. Maybe next year they could go somewhere other than the mall where he worked every day, but both knew, for sure, that this would be happening for years to come.


End file.
